An Alien

The silvery sheen of its corpse seemed to reflect a source of light that didn’t exist. Even slain, it floated a few feet above the ground, its dark blood floating, gushing out of it in black globules that disappeared into the night. Exhausted, I fell against the rough trunk of a tree and sank down to my haunches. The flat, fish-shaped thing spun lazily in a passing breeze, and the dark center of its perpetually open mouth turned toward me, its thousand curved fangs still red with blood. It had no fins that I could see, no eyes or other organs; it was smooth. To one end, its sleek body tapered to a dull point like a tail without any joints. It suddenly struck me that the whole thing looked remarkably like a dunce cap made of blubbery yet metallic skin, and somewhere between my exhaustion and incredulity, I began to laugh miserably, the tears flowing from my eyes. As they rolled down my cheeks, some of them seemed to get caught up in the weird gravity of the alien, floating away into the thin air.